


LA Pride

by natural_singularity



Series: Buddie First Kiss Week 2020 [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Eddie Diaz, Buddie First Kiss Week, Buddie First Kiss Week 2020, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pansexual Evan "Buck" Buckley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24491854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natural_singularity/pseuds/natural_singularity
Summary: Every year, the LAFD is invited to join the Los Angeles Pride Parade in West Hollywood. And every year, the LAFD asks stations to volunteer to represent the department, and they choose a station at random. The 118 has volunteered every year since Bobby was made captain, but has never been selected. This year is different.-For Day 1: Related to Pride
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Buddie First Kiss Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769308
Comments: 25
Kudos: 442





	LA Pride

**Author's Note:**

> lots of love to @bisexualbuck and @panevanbuckley for their help and encouragement x
> 
> hooray for bi/pan solidarity! we love to see it

“Alright, listen up,” Bobby starts as they gather around him. “Every year, the LAFD is invited to join the Los Angeles Pride Parade in West Hollywood. And every year, the LAFD asks stations to volunteer to represent the department, and they choose a station at random.

“Now the 118 has volunteered every year since I’ve been captain. We’ve never been selected. But this year is different--”

“Did we get picked?” Hen jumps in. 

“We got picked.”

Hen lets out a cheer and grins. “Finally!” 

Bobby returns her smile before continuing, “So this June, we’ll all be scheduled for a small shift to specifically walk, or ride, the parade route on behalf of the LAFD.”

“We don’t have to like… build a float or anything, do we? I’m not sure I know how to do that,” Chimney jokes.

Eddie pulls out his phone. “We could always Google it? I think I helped build a homecoming float in high school actually--”

“No, but your enthusiasm is appreciated. We’ll all be walking or riding in the truck.”

Buck raises his hand slightly. “Do we have to wear our uniforms?”

Four pairs of eyes blink at him.

“No, **no**. I mean, can we wear Pride stuff?” His face is bright red now, his cheeks and neck warm with embarrassment. 

Look, he’s attended a Pride parade every year since he could sneak out of the house as a teenager. He’s seen all kinds of fashion choices. But he’s never felt the urge to get his own ass out.

...not like, a _strong_ urge, anyway. 

“As a matter of fact, Buck, the department’s social media management team is offering Pride-themed uniform shirts and encouraging team members from all the stations, not just us, to take photos or film short videos wearing them for the LAFD Instagram."

Bobby goes on to explain that there are different designs for the different flags; that a photo or video is not a requirement to receive a shirt; that they just have to let him know by the end of the week if they want one. He then adds that if anyone’s uncomfortable, or would just prefer not to discuss it with him, he’ll provide the contact information for the media team directly.

Bobby’s the best.

“Okay? Great. That’s in about six weeks. For now, here are today’s assignments. Hen, I want you on…”

* * *

Buck’s fingers trail over the pink, yellow, and blue on the back of the uniform shirt, admiring the design. The bright colors contrast beautifully against the usual navy of the uniform. He’s excited to see the other versions, certain they’ll all be just as gorgeous.

When he’d first seen his options, he has to admit, he hadn’t been expecting to see pansexual included on the list. Honestly he had been surprised to see anything beyond the traditional Pride rainbow, but to see over a _dozen_ options? An extra box to request colors for representation not already included in the list? He feels a bit overwhelmed. 

Acceptance and inclusion make him emotional on a good day, but for something like this? After growing up homophobic, absent parents, knowing he was exactly the kind of person his parents looked down on, said horrible things about.

After having his identity invalidated enough times that he just… doesn’t really mention it anymore. 

Buck lets out a shaky breath and clutches the shirt closer. He just. He really appreciates it. 

And not only does he get a shirt, he also gets to stand with his family and celebrate the parts of himself he’s most proud of: who he is, who he loves, and what he loves to do. He gets to feel accepted, and _seen_ , surrounded by the people he loves more than anything.

Their shift's been over for awhile. Buck had been halfway out the door when Bobby had passed him the shirt he ordered, and he ended up a little side-tracked. He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting on the locker room bench, staring at the shirt at his hands.

He stands and strips off his own shirt before pulling on the new one. He ordered it at the perfect size: it hugs his chest and biceps attractively, but he can actually move without running the risk of tearing it.

(He ripped a shirt _once_ and Chim laughed at him for a week. Never again.)

He stands with his back to the mirror, turning on the front-facing camera of his phone to see his reflection. Somehow the colors look even better stretched across his upper back. Buck can’t help but smile softly at the design, feeling tears sting the back of his eyes. 

He notices movement in the corner of his eye, and startles slightly when he finds Eddie standing frozen near the bench. 

He’s staring at Buck, eyebrows arched in surprise and gripping a shirt in his hands. “Sorry man, I didn’t mean to interrupt?”

Buck rarely sees Eddie so wrongfooted. He usually carries a strong certainty in his shoulders: he’s confident enough to know when he can contribute, and self-aware enough to know when he should step back. And his self-assurance has only grown in the past year. It’s one of things Buck admires and loves most about him.

But now there’s a tension in his muscles now, and Buck can read a bit of embarrassment in his already complicated expression. He pockets his phone and moves to stand in front of him. “You’re good, I was just checking out how my shirt fits.” Buck turns his back to Eddie before looking over his shoulder and grinning at him. “What do you think?”

He feels Eddie move closer, tracing the design with his fingers gently. Once again, like so many times before, the air feels electric around them. Like every nerve on his body is waiting for something to happen, for one of them to finally give in, let go, make that first move.

Eddie clears his throat before replying, “It looks great, Buck.” There’s a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I didn’t know you’re pan.”

Turning back around to face him, Buck tugs at the hem of the shirt, feeling twitchy under Eddie’s considering gaze. “Y-yeah, I… uh… It didn’t really come up? But it’s not really a secret either?” There’s a beat of silence, then another. Eddie’s eyes are careful now, almost assessing, and it’s making him anxious. “Is that… okay?”

He blinks at him, then chuckles softly. “It’d be pretty hypocritical if it wasn’t.” Eddie moves his hand from Buck’s shoulder to adjust the shirt in his grip, turning it around to show him the back. 

His breath catches in his throat and his mind starts racing. Because, well. Buck had long-since acknowledged his attraction to Eddie: had felt the familiar fluttering in his stomach from the first moment he saw him. Buck had also accepted how much he trusted Eddie, and how much Eddie trusted him: with his life every day at work, with his son, with his heart and his mind. 

And more recently Buck had realized how hopelessly, completely in love he was with Eddie: the terror that gripped his heart when he lost the weight, when the hole collapsed, when he dug into mud with his bare hands, when he sobbed in Bobby’s lap. 

But Buck had also assumed, perhaps unfairly, that Eddie was straight. Had settled comfortably and happily into what he figured was a queerplatonic relationship with him: Love. Trust. Intimacy. Hell, even coparenting. 

Now though, now his world has shifted. That familiar anticipation ignites the air around them again, like the room is vibrating. It feels like they’re both holding their breath. Buck’s fingers dance over the pink, purple, and blue colors in Eddie’s shirt. Bi pride. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He looks up again to find Eddie smiling at him softly as he asks, “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew I loved you, and I knew you loved me too. I felt it every day. But I didn’t want to push you; scare you or mess everything up. And I wasn’t sure if you were physically attracted to me, you know? I-I didn’t want to assume you wanted to kiss me, or, uh…” Buck’s cheeks burn and his eyes dart away from Eddie’s.

Eddie steps so close now, their chests and thighs nearly pressed together. “Buck.” Both his hands reach up to cradle Buck’s face tenderly, and Eddie’s shown tactile affection before, but not like this. Not this kind of careful, gentle touch, like he’s something precious. The intensity in his eyes has Buck grasping Eddie’s wrist, trying to swallow the lump in his throat and blink back the tears in his eyes.

“ _Buck_ ,” he says again. “Every part of me, loves every part of you.” Eddie gives him a small smirk, eyes dark but twinkling. “And every part of me is attracted to every part of you. I want you any way you’ll have me.” 

He can’t help the small gasp that escapes his chest then. His heart is racing and his hands are shaking and Buck thinks he’s probably dreaming, but then Eddie asks,

“Can I kiss you?”

And all Buck can do is nod before he feels gentle lips against his own. The move is effortless, as if they had rehearsed it or been doing it for years. 

He hears a moan and it takes a moment to realize the noise has come from his own throat. His entire world, all of his focus, centers on Eddie: Eddie’s hips under his hand, Eddie’s chest pressed against his own, Eddie’s hand cradled in his palm. 

The way Eddie’s waist fits perfectly in his arms as Buck wraps him up and tugs him closer.

It feels like the rest of the world stops, watching as they come together in this new, physically intimate way. As if there’s a spotlight on the way their bodies are finally, finally connecting; as if an audience will applaud at any moment.

Their lips move together effortlessly, and Buck can’t wait to celebrate this, too.


End file.
